


of drama and decisions

by arcadianwriter (noxstories)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: AU, Bullying, But also, Choose Your Own Adventure Story, Choose Your Own Ending, Death, Drama school AU, Drug Addiction, Food, Human AU, I’mma tag endings, M/M, Physical Abuse, Roman is Very Gay, Sympathetic Deceit, Teenager AU, Unhealthy behaviour, bad deceit, breakdowns, but not necessarily, i hope this works!!, in ages, incomplete (so far), i’ll tag triggers at every chapter too!, or tagged, phobia of failure, so sorry in advance, so triggers you might get, sometimes no happy ending!, the author hasn’t written fanfic, this was really hard to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-04-24 20:39:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19180963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxstories/pseuds/arcadianwriter
Summary: His dad sighed lightly, shaking his head. “It’s not about what I want, it’s your life. I just hope this works out how you plan it to, Roman. Don’t make any silly choices, you understand?”Don’t make any silly choices. That felt important somehow, though Roman didn’t know why. Of course he wouldn’t make any silly choices - his entire studentship at Atticus Acting Academy would be threatened! Still, his father’s words echoed in his brain, and Roman couldn’t help but get the feeling that his choices were already out of his hands.But this year was going to be good. It had to be. He could only hope that whatever or whoever was controlling his fate had some mercy on him. He could really do with some good luck this year.—————————In which Roman Prince is attending a boarding school of the arts and is determined to succeed, and you, despite not being a character, hold his fate in your hands.Or, a choose your own adventure style sanders sides AU fic.





	1. chapter i

**Author's Note:**

> Hi!! So, welcome to this!! This is my first time writing a Choose Your Own Adventure style fic and I’m excited about doing so! It’s been hard to plan out, for certain, but there is around nine branches of endings, which different versions of those endings existing depending on if you decide Roman wants to be in a relationship or not, and if so, with which character (or characters)! Difficult to plan but I think it makes sense.
> 
> Basically, there are 26 endings (I think lol), all named after musicals or musical theatre songs. The actual song itself or musical itself does not directly correlate to the ending, just the title or name! If going through the fic more than one time (eg. trying to find other endings), you may find some chapters/plot that look similar to what you’ve already read, but don’t be fooled! There will be a twist at some point! No two endings are the same,, except from the ones where the only differences are if Roman develops a crush on someone or not. Those are the same, so the choice you make in regards to his relationship doesn’t really matter! That’s more fan service; if you want him to have a relationship with one of the other characters, he can, without affecting the plot. Likewise if you choose not to give him a relationship! This also applies for the ones that ask you, towards the very beginning, to hang out with one of the Light Sides (ie. Patton, Virgil or Logan). This doesn’t affect your path, though the choices you make with them will....
> 
> If you see any mistakes or I haven’t tagged triggers (if there is any in particular chapters), please let me know!! Triggers can be found in the notes at the bottom, so please scroll down before reading each chapter to check :)

 

 

Roman Prince gazed out the window of his father’s car, fingers tapping out a tune restlessly on his knees. He felt like he could hardly sit still, excitement and nerves in equal parts running through him — or maybe that was the three mugs of coffee he’d had making him so antsy. In any case, his mind was racing almost feverishly, the car silent save for the steady _tick-tick-tick_ of his watch... which didn’t help to calm him down.

 

Today was his first day at a prestigious boarding school, Atticus Acting Academy, or Atticus, as he knew most students called it for short. Only those most skilled at acting or musical theatre, or interested in the arts in some way, shape or form, were accepted into the Academy: the best of the best, and it made sense after the rigorous admissions process and auditions he’d been at. Inwardly, Roman didn’t understand those that enjoyed working lights and sounds and backstage over actually acting, but he supposed somebody had to do them.

 

In any case, he was incredibly excited to be attending the school — every actor who was _anybody_ attended this school before becoming famous and successful. Becoming a successful actor would be a dream come true to Roman, and so really, the arduous audition process and stressful essays had been worth it.

 

“Are you ready, Roman?” His father asked, breaking the silence for the first time in a while. Roman broke his gaze from looking outside to meet his dad’s eyes in the reflection, surprised he’d even spoken to him. He knew his dad wasn’t happy at the decision he’d made, has wanted him to do something he considered _worthwhile_ , like sport or being a doctor or lawyer, and had never wanted his son to be an actor. So to hear him speak now, even if he did still look disapproving, was somewhat of a surprise to Roman.

 

”Of course,” he replied breezily, hoping his face and voice didn’t portray his anxieties at the prospect of arriving at the school. “Tell mom that I love her. Uh, and you.” He added awkwardly as an afterthought. “Obviously don’t tell yourself that— but, I mean—“

 

“I hope you won’t be as tongue tied at this fancy theatre school.” Roman flushed darkly in embarrassment, opening his mouth to respond to his dad’s words, perceiving them as a criticism, but then he saw the awkwardly teasing look on his dad’s face, and found himself relaxing.

 

“Da—ad, don’t tease me!” He complained, letting out a dramatic huff, a smile making its way over his lips. “I just— thanks. For being great about all of this. I know… it’s not what you wanted.”

 

His dad sighed lightly, shaking his head. “It’s not about what _I_ want, it’s your life. I just hope this works out how you plan it to, Roman. Don’t make any silly choices, you understand?”

 

 _Don’t make any silly choices_. That felt important somehow, though Roman didn’t know why. Of course he wouldn’t make any silly choices - his entire studentship at the academy would be threatened! Still, his father’s words echoed in his brain, and Roman couldn’t help but get the feeling that his choices were already out of his hands. But this year was going to be good. It had to be. He could only hope that whatever or whoever was controlling his fate had some mercy on him. He could really do with some good luck this year.

 

As they got closer to the school, Roman’s stomach began churning with nerves, and a million thoughts cramped his mind at once. What if he wasn’t as good an actor as he thought he was? What if people laughed at him? What if there had been a mistake in bringing him here? What if he didn’t make any friends? What if this had been a bad idea? He was only sixteen after all, what if he changed his mind? What if after a few months he realises he didn’t want to be an actor anymore? What if—

 

“This is it,” Roman’s dad said, interrupting his son’s dismal thoughts. Eyes widening in surprise, Roman glanced up at the tall building, biting his lip. “You’ll call us every few days, won’t you? You know how your mother gets. I don’t want her to be upset at your leave.”

 

“Course,” Roman agreed, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach and beginning to get out the car. “I miss you both, I wouldn’t _not_ call you if my life depended on it.”

 

”That’s my boy. I’ll see you at Christmas, alright?”

 

“Okay, dad. Bye.”

 

“Bye, Roman.”

 

Roman watched his dad drive away, anxious, with a suitcase in each hand. Awkwardly, feeling somewhat timid, he began making his way into the building. What number of room was he staying in again? 105.

 

105\. 105…

 

“Excuse me, do you know where I could find room 105?” He asked a man he presumed to be a professor or teacher, judging by the fact he was a few years older than even the older students, probably around mid-twenties. And the fact he was wearing a name badge that said “Mr. Sanders”. The man, Mr Sanders, smiled and consulted his clipboard.

 

“You’re Roman, right?” He checked cheerfully, and Roman nodded in agreement. “Let’s see… 105… Okay, Roman, go down that hallway, go up the first set of stairs you come across on your right, and your room should be on the left. There’s a class meeting in two hours at four o’clock, so that should give you enough time to grab dinner and unpack, and then go to bed. I imagine all of you kids are tired after the journey here!”

 

“Thanks, Mr. Sanders.”

 

“Call me Thomas. Everyone here does. I’ll see you tonight, Roman.”

 

Roman felt much less nervous after talking with Mr— Thomas, whom he presumed would be his class teacher. He was nice, a friendly, upbeat man, and he didn’t doubt that Thomas genuinely was a good person. Following his instructions led Roman to his room, and typing in his password “RPRINCE628” allowed him access.

 

The room was surprisingly spacious, with a double bed in the corner of the room next to the wide windows, which were open to show the school’s gardens, where he could see a boy around his age gardening, wearing a blue shirt and a cat cardigan. Smiling in fondness — he’d have to talk with that boy at some point, for sure — Roman checked out the rest of his room. The walls were baby blue, as were his bedsheets and blankets, and a white desk sat across from his bed with a comfortable-looking chair on wheels. Unable to resist sitting in it and spinning round with a chuckle, Roman’s eyes widened when he saw the open door leading to both the bathroom and another room he hadn’t seen.

 

The other room appeared to be a practise room, with mirrors covering the front wall so he could see himself perform and give critique. There were ballet bars on the back wall, and speaks at either side of the room. It was small, but enough that Roman felt his face light up in delight. This would be perfect to practise his lines and drama in here!! The bathroom was less exciting, but still made Roman happy upon seeing there was a bath installed, not just a shower, and with that, he began to unpack, humming ‘Les Miserables’ under his breath. He’d been wearing very basic clothes, and decided to change into something nicer before meeting the other students. He wanted to make a good impression, after all, and he wouldn’t do that in sweatpants and a band shirt!

 

Changing into his Atticus uniform — movable pants and a comfortable t-shirt, all black, with hints of red through it and three red A’s on the back to signify where he was a student — Roman realised with a start that if he wanted to be on time, he’d have to eat on the move. Grabbing a cereal bar from his bag and beginning to eat as he exited the room, he followed the other students, sparse as they were (it really was a selective process to get in, huh, he mused to himself), hoping they would lead him to the meeting room, and he was correct. Thomas stood in the meeting hall, a smile on his face and looking relaxed: nothing like how Roman had imagined his professors to be. He’d thought they all would be strict and old, but Thomas seemed the complete contrast of that, which was good.

 

“Welcome!” Thomas greeted the students as they filed in, some chattering, some silent. “That’s it, I know it’s a squeeze, but, uh, everyone can probably fit in. There we go— Remy, can you close that door? I think that’s everybody.”

 

“Sure thing, Tom,” a purple haired student drawled, who had been standing a little away from the crowd on a phone. The door slid shut, and the meeting promptly began.

 

“Okay, so good evening guys, gals, and non binary pals!” Thomas said warmly, his voice bright and loud. “My name is Thomas Sanders, but you can call me Thomas, and I teach the theoretical part of the drama course all of you are sitting. Congratulations! Getting to where you are standing in front of me is impressive, not many people get that far, as you can probably tell!”

 

Yes, Roman had noticed how little peers were around him. There must have only been thirty students across the entire first year, which was insane considering people all across the world and country auditioned. He couldn’t help but feel proud for managing to get in, proud of himself: which he was pleased about, considering the fact he was usually his own biggest critic.

 

“As you are the lucky few that made it this far,” Thomas continued, drawing eyes back to him, “we do expect a lot from you, it’s true. This will _not_ be easy! There will be pressure applied to make sure you’re becoming the best you can be, and you are expected to keep up with both theory and practical. However! We also understand how stressful this can be, and so we have a therapist in the form of Doctor Emile Picani if you ever need to speak to him! Emile, you want to say something?”

 

A brown haired man stepped forwards, looking cheerful and pleasant, but Roman turned him out, too eager for this to be over and to go back to his room. Or to explore. Ooh, maybe he should try to find the library, or the theatre! He’d been wondering about the theatre for a while. Then again, he was determined to keep a balance between class work and theatre, so maybe he should look over his notes…

 

In his indecision, the three hours flew by, and soon enough the meeting was done. Blinking out of his reverie, Roman began moving with the crowd, uncertain on where to head to, and paused once he got to a split in the hallway. Hmm.

 

He knew that the theatre was to the left, and the library to his right, but he was also eager to check out the gardens. On the other hand, he did want to read through his notes for his early classes tomorrow. He could get ahead in order to keep the balance, like Thomas had been saying!

 

What to do… what to do…

—————————————————————

** If Roman turns right, to the library, go to chapter 2. **

** If Roman turns left, towards the theatre, go to chapter 3. **

** If he goes outside to the gardens, go to chapter 4.  **

** If he goes back to his room to study, go to chapter 5.**


	2. chapter ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which roman meets logan in a library, and they have a discussion on the tempest.
> 
> trigger warnings: none.

 

 

It would have to be left. Roman had heard such great things about the library in Atticus after all — about how grand it was, how much it resembled the libraries from old, ancient times, and that decided it. It would be too cold for the gardens anyway, he reasoned with himself, and he could express his joy with his classmates in the theatre tomorrow. As for going back to his room and studying, well, he could always study in the library, couldn’t he? Mind made up, he turned right to the library.

 

He got lost a few times, the library being rather obscure and difficult to find, but eventually someone pointed him in the direction of it. His plans of finding a good interesting book and studying or simply reading it were dashed when he entered the library, eyes widening at the sheer size of it and the total number of books on the shelves surrounding him. The library was in gold and red, the school colours, which only made it seem more mystical and beautiful. Enthralled, Roman stepped forwards, and into the path of another student, colliding heavily with him and sending his books flying. Sprawling to the floor, embarrassed at his inattentiveness, he began apologising to the other boy he bumped into who looked rather irritated.

 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t look where I was going,” Roman said, a sheepish smile on his face. “I was just taking in the sight of such an amazing place, I’ll be honest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a library this gigantic before.”

 

At this, the boy’s expression relaxed, and he sat up, adjusting his tie and looking him up and down curiously.

 

“No harm done,” the stranger responded. “I too find myself overcome by the sisnt of the library. It’s beautiful, of course — as all libraries are — but I’ll admit, I was taken aback at this library in particular.”

 

The boy had an odd way of speaking, sharp and intelligent and almost entirely without emotion: if not for the song of genuine love present on his face and in his words when speaking of the library. This was a boy that clearly adored books. Roman smiled, getting to his feet and offering the boy his hand.

 

“It’s wonderful,” he agreed. “I’m Roman, by the way. Roman Prince.”

 

“Logan, Logan Summers,” the other replied calmly. “I suppose you’re a first year, like myself? That would explain your fascination with this library.”

 

“You supposed correctly,” Roman said with a chuckle, helping pick up Logan’s books. “So you’re an actor too, hmm? That’s wonderful! What’s your favourite play?”

 

Logan looked almost disgusted at the thought, snorting and shaking his head.

 

“You think so lowly of me, to think of me as an actor,” he said, arching an eyebrow, “I would never. All those emotions and itty-bitty feelings they have to display? Disgusting. I’m a dramaturg — at least, that’s what I’m aiming to become. My favourite play, however, is probably the Tempest, by Shakespeare. Such fascinating readings about colonialism and class, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

Mildly offended by this description of acting, but choosing to let it drop for now, Roman could see the curiosity in Logan’s eyes — the other was wondering if he, as an actor, would understand the different readings behind the play, perhaps only expecting him to have a basic understanding of it, but that was where he underestimated his love of theatre: and in particular, Shakespeare.

 

“I do agree, actually, but I find the roles of Antonio and Prospero as villain and hero also interesting,” Roman said, honestly. “It’s suspicious, in my opinion, that we only ever hear about Antonio’s crimes from Prospero’s words — who, from my knowledge, didn’t seem to be a good leader anyway, leaving his kingdom unattended for so long.”

 

“Interesting,” Logan noted, casually, though Roman saw clearly the spark of excitement and passion flare in the other’s eyes. “And the chess game between Miranda and Ferdinand? Any thoughts?”

 

“Aside from the completely obvious theory that their marriage is forged from politics and perhaps will tragically dissolve when they step from the island, not much,” Roman admitted, and Logan properly smiled for the first time in their meeting, adjusting his glasses with his finger.

 

“Perhaps actors aren’t as foolish as I presumed. I suppose some knowledge of the plethora of readings of the play are necessary to play a character convincingly.”

 

“Hey! I do know things!” Roman huffed, mock-offended, but mostly amused. “Feel free to tell me more about the chess. That’s always intrigued me.”

 

And with that, Roman found himself whisked off to sit down by an enthusiastic Logan, and soon he found himself taking notes on different aspects of the Tempest, from the chess game, to the setting, to the metaphorical meanings of Ariel and Caliban, and to Prospero's power. Logan had just moved on to why the play was named in such a way only to find himself yawning, and Roman glanced up from his notes, a smile covering his face. He had so many notes and thoughts on the play, and despite not finding this play to be his favourite, it was extremely interesting nonetheless. Besides, the look on Logan’s face when he spoke showed that the boy was so genuinely happy… Who was Roman to combat this?

 

“You sound tired, Teach,” he chuckled, noticing the tired expression on Logan’s face. “Your knowledge isn’t going anywhere, you know. You should get some sleep. That increases productivity, you know.”

 

“I’m aware, Roman, but my name is Logan, not Teach,” Logan told him seriously, but nodded with another yawn. “I suppose I should rest, as should you. We have classes tomorrow, after all. We can always continue this another time, if you’d like… perhaps tomorrow, after classes? I found your company tolerable enough to put up with. You do contribute fascinating ideas from time to time.”

 

Usually, Roman’s ego would be bruised by such words, and he would huffily point out that his company was brilliant, as were his ideas, but understood that this was Logan’s way of a compliment. Smiling instead, he debated Logan’s idea. Hang out again tomorrow? He certainly wanted to — it had been a long time since he’d met someone so passionate about plays and their meanings. But at the same time, he had actual classwork to be doing, and it was so easy to lose track of time when speaking to Logan…

 

Indecision fogged his mind. Should he hang out, or not? Hang out with Logan, or not?

 

—————————————————————

 

** If Roman chooses to hang out with Logan tomorrow, go to chapter 8. (NOT POSTED YET) **

****

** If Roman chooses not to hang out with Logan tomorrow, go to chapter 9. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got all my knowledge on the tempest from an oxford university study week I was invited to so sorry if any of this information is inaccurate or overly pretentious!! I just find analysis of Shakespeare so interesting and I figured Logan would too. Feel free to leave a comment!!


	3. chapter iii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which roman meets virgil in the theatre and they bond.
> 
> trigger warnings: mentions of anxiety, divorce, and an arm breaking.

 

 

Roman’s passion caught up with his brain, and his eyes lit up. What had he been thinking? Of _course_ he had to go to the theatre. He’d been dreaming about it for weeks: everybody knew that Atticus’ theatre was beautiful, ancient and grand, and of course he wanted to see that before anything! Rolling his eyes at the thought of going to the library (ridiculous) or the gardens (too cold without a coat, he told himself), he turned left towards the theatre, and began heading there.

 

It was well sign posted, thank goodness, or he doubted that he would have found his way there. The double doors, heavy and wooden, filled him with great anticipation. This would be beautiful. He knew it.

 

Opening the doors with a resounding creak, Roman was positively overjoyed at the sight of the theatre. _Beautiful_ couldn’t even describe it; the whole space just seemed to call to him, and he barely even registered the fact he was stepping inside, one step, two steps, until he was stood just below the actual stage itself, eyes fixated on the wooden platform.

 

It was even bigger than he had expected. Hundreds and hundreds of rows of seats filled the space, and the stage itself was vast, huge and hungrily demanding his attention. It seemed he was the only one there, too, much to his delight, and, ignoring his previous qualms about wanting to go back and study, he climbed the steps to the stage, aglow with excitement.

 

Roman couldn’t quite resist performing on it despite there being no audience, and began reciting a monologue — a classic, his ‘To Be Or Not To Be’ monologue from Hamlet, the one that he had performed in his audition, the one that had secured his place in Atticus in the first place. Caught up in his dramatics, he barely noticed that a boy with dark purple hair and a matching hoodie slip into the theatre and watch him, spellbound, at the back of the space.

 

Giddily pausing after his finishing bow, Roman then suddenly caught sight of the boy, and realised with crushing embarrassment how ridiculous he no doubt looked to the other student. The boy, however, didn’t look mocking or contemptuous; much the opposite. There was an impressed look on his face, even as he looked slightly awkward at being caught, raising one hand in greeting.

 

“Uh, hi,” he said, clearing his throat and averting his eyes. “You… that was really good. Sorry for surprising you.”

 

Roman felt a lot less self conscious at that, a beaming smile turning his lips upward.

 

“You thought so? Really?”

 

“I mean, you _had_ to be pretty impressive to get in here, didn’t you?” The boy replied, sticking his hands in his hoodie pockets, face red. Roman got down off the stage (reluctantly), and met the boy, offering his hand to shake, which he did.

 

“Thank you,” Roman replied grandly, smiling. “My name is Roman. Roman Prince. What’s yours?”

 

“Virgil,” the boy told him, a faint smile covering his face. Roman thought it suited him. “Virgil Night.”

 

“Knight?” Roman questioned in delight. “A prince and a knight. How coincidental!”

 

“No, not Knight,” Virgil smirked, rolling his eyes, before realising how forward and friendly he was being, and seeming to retreat inside himself. “Uh, sorry. I mean, Night. N-I-G-H-T. Like the night sky.”

 

“Well, you can still be my knight in shining armour,” Roman told him smoothly, rather pleased at his own wit. Virgil didn’t look as impressed, but seemed to be trying to stifle a grin.

 

“That sucked, Roman. I thought that actors were supposed to be good at being funny.”

 

“Well, excuse me for not being in the best shape. It’s late at night, you know,” Roman defended himself, though laughed lightly. “What are you doing here so late, anyway? Were you going to perform?”

 

Virgil shook his head sharply, eyes wide in horror.

 

“No way. I hate being on stage. Nah, I prefer being backstage. It’s fun, watching all the actors panic about being onstage.”

 

Roman’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “You’re a stagehand?” He questioned. He still couldn’t understand why anybody would prefer being behind the scenes when they had the opportunity to experience the adrenaline buzz and thrill of being onstage with the audience cheering for them. “I never understood you lot. Why would you want to be backstage when you could be on stage performing?”

 

“Why would I wanna be onstage potentially making a fool of myself, when I could be helping people backstage?” Virgil shot back, crossing his arms, though his tone was still playful. “Though it doesn’t look like you need to worry about embarrassing yourself. You were… really good.”

 

“Aw, gee, Virge, you’re gonna make me blush,” Roman laughed, feeling warm. He liked Virgil — a lot — and could easily see himself hanging out with him a lot after this meeting. “So why’re you here, if you hate theatre so much?”

 

“I never said I hated theatre,” Virgil returned, raising an eyebrow and slouching further. “I hate performing. Here’s a difference. I like helping out backstage. It’s fun, even if whiny actors make it less enjoyable. I’m just here tonight to check out the layout of the place: I don’t wanna embarrass myself tomorrow by not knowing where things are and how to work things.”

 

That was fair enough.

 

They sat down in the front row, and kept up a mixture of witty banter and genuine conversations. Roman discovered Virgil had a pet cat called Shadow (ironic, considering its full name would be _Shadow Night_ ), had watched the Office Bloopers fifteen and a half times, and had a half brother he didn’t particularly like that also went to the academy (who’s name Virgil refused to tell him). In turn, Roman told him about his passion for acting even as a child, how he broke his arm in a mock sword fight two years ago, and about his mother and father’s divorce. Virgil listened attentively, and didn’t give him any pitying looks or ask insensitive questions, to which Roman was grateful. The purple haired boy really seemed to understand that Roman would prefer to simply gloss over the subject without going into too much detail. In the same way, Roman didn’t pry about his half-brother or about his anxiety, which he soon found out Virgil had been diagnosed with, though he wanted to ask questions about the two matters badly. He supposed they’d only met that night: they couldn’t go sharing all their secrets now. And if Virgil didn’t want to talk about it, then that was none of Roman’s business.

 

They talked well into the night, until Roman was interrupted by his own yawn in the middle of a sentence, only then realising how tired he was. Virgil looked decidedly less sleepier, and more amused at Roman’s yawn, standing up from where they’d sat previously.

 

“It’s late, dude, you should go to bed,” he smirked. “We can talk tomorrow. We have all year, after all.”

 

“I suppose you’re right, even though that is annoying,” Roman sighed dramatically, mimicking Virgil and getting to his feet. “It was wonderful meeting you, physical embodiment of a dark and stormy Night. Get it, like — like your surname?”

 

“Nice play on words, bit of a mouthful though, Princey.”

 

“Oh! That’s a much better nickname. Jokes on you, because I like that name, and it’s just stroking my ego.”

 

“Like that needs stroked,” Virgil laughed, before pausing, glancing down and shifting his weight from foot to foot awkwardly. “Uh…”

 

“What is it?” Roman asked, caught off guard by Virgil’s sudden nerves. “Is everything alright?”

 

“Yeah, no, everything’s fine,” Virgil told him, but Roman could still hear the nerves in his voice. “I was just… just wondering, ifyou’refreetomorrowtohangout?” The latter part of the sentence came out in a rush, and Roman blinked in confusion, struggling to understand.

 

“Virge, calm down, it’s okay,” he told him, reassuringly. “Say that last part again for me?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Virgil repeated, slightly slower, “are you free tomorrow to hang out? Like, after class? If not, that’s cool, but you seem chill, and I thought hanging out would be cool or something. You don’t have to say yes.”

 

Hang out with Virgil? What reason would he have not to do that? Roman went to agree without hesitation, before pausing, suddenly thoughtful. Wait. He hadn’t studied that night, so maybe it would be beneficial to do so tomorrow night instead of hanging out. But at the same time, he didn’t want Virgil to think he didn’t want to hang out with him, because he did! Surely he didn’t _need_  to study…

 

Why was it so hard to make choices these days?

—————————————————————

** If Roman chooses to hang out with Virgil tomorrow, go to chapter 6.**

****

** If Roman chooses not to hang out with Virgil tomorrow, go to chapter 7. (NOT POSTED YET) **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m trying to post these chapters fas t yikes also can you tell roman/Virgil is my favourite ship????? if you can I’m sorry :’)


	4. chapter iv

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which roman meets patton, and they talk about school and remy.
> 
> trigger warnings: accidental misgendering of a non-binary character that is quickly corrected but nothing else because Patton and Roman are so adorable

_Why was he struggling to decide so much?_

Roman’s mind moved slowly, foggy and flustered, and he was suddenly aware of how warm it was in the building. Gosh, had it always been so unbearably _hot_? Cheeks flushed, head reeling, he decided that there only really was one option: going outside to the gardens. That would hopefully clear his head a little. Not to mention, he wanted to see the theatre with a free mind tomorrow, and he didn’t want to sit in a stuffy library that night. No, he’d much rather sit outside and take in the sights. Atticus Acting Academy was supposed to be very beautiful, after all.

 

Making his way out to the gardens was a much more difficult affair than he’d initially thought it would be. He got lost several times, and actually had to, shame-faced, ask the student from earlier, Remy, for directions. Remy gave them to him with a smile and sassy attitude that made Roman instantly laugh and lighten up. This place really wasn’t so scary after all.

 

Eventually, after around half an hour, he made his way out into the gardens, the night air instantly sharpening up his mind as he looked around in interest. Like seemingly everything in the school, the garden was huge and beautiful, luscious plants and blooming flowers everywhere he turned. The stone path cutting through the long flowers and grass felt like something out of a fairytale, and so it was with genuine delight that Roman decided to go along it, marvelling at the beauty and simplicity of the gardens. Crickets chirped endearingly in the several tall trees that cast shadows over the garden, while Roman was sure he saw a family of rabbits in the grass to his left. Completely at peace, he wasn’t even alarmed when he turned a bend and saw the same boy he’d saw from his window previously that day sitting down, tending to the flowers on his knees.

 

“Hello,” Roman greeted, and the boy in front of him started, seemingly surprised at the voice. He must not have heard him coming. “I’m Roman. Did you plant these?”

 

“Hey, kiddo, didn’t see ya there,” the boy smiled widely, making Roman instantly feel at ease and relaxed. “I’m Patton. And yes, I did, actually! I’ve been looking after them through the summer before any first years arrived. They’re doing well this year — you’re first year, aren’t you? I haven’t seen you around.”

 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Roman agreed, though was struggling to add up the pieces of the puzzle. “But— wait. You say you were here during the summer, but students aren’t allowed to stay in the summer, are they? How could you—“

 

“My dad, of course!” Patton said brightly, turning back to his flowers. Roman crouched to join him, well aware of the exaggerated height difference between the taller boy and himself. “He’s a professor here, has been for a few years, so I’m allowed to stay here with him over summer. It sure can be lonely, though, which is why I look after these flowers. They’re bright and beautiful and attract bees, which is also good!”

 

Roman couldn’t help but feel sorry for Patton. Having a professor as a dad… it must have been awful. Especially having to stay here without friends over summer break — he adored this Academy already, but didn’t know if he could stay there without friends.

 

“That doesn’t sound too fun,” he noted, with a frown. “Who’s your dad?”

 

“Thomas, Thomas Sanders. You probably heard him speak tonight!” Patton told him, before shrugging lightly. “And I don’t mind, really. It can be lonely, but my dad is here for me, and my friend Virge comes to visit me sometimes! He just joined this year, with you. I don’t suppose you’ve met him yeg? Virgil, with purple hair?”

 

Roman thought hard for a moment. “I don’t think so,” he admitted. “I met a guy with purple hair, but his name was Remy. Not Virgil.”

 

“Oh, Remy!” Patton sang, clapping his hands with a laugh. “They’re the best gosh darn actor I’ve ever met, and the funniest, too. They’re a fun friend, for sure! What course are you taking, by the way? Acting? Or something else?”

 

“Acting,” Roman said immediately, surprised that Remy was an actor too. He supposed it made sense — actors were often known to be extra, after all. He also noted that Patton only used ‘ _they_ ’ when referring to Remy, and made a mental note to do the same thing. Maybe they were non binary? He’d have to ask them later. “What about you? Are you an actor?”

 

“Nope, I leave that to people with a better handle over their emotions,” Patton joked playfully. “I prefer writing anyway — I write the plays that you actors perform! And I act as encouragement. Often rehearsals can be tough, so I try to help y’all feel just a little better if I can.”

 

Roman grinned at that, and got the feeling he and Patton were going to be good friends. Abandoning his flowers for a while, Patton talked with Roman for hours, and Roman ignored the cold as the night progressed. He paid attention instead to the information he learned about Patton, that his favourite animal was a cat even though he was allergic to their fur, that he loved flowers and nature, and had written the next play the drama students would be putting on. Roman begged him to tell him what it was about, but all he got was a big playful wink, a giggle, and a vague few lines about LGBT+ characters.

 

Well. That was enough information for him to know was interested, he thought in amusement.

 

Patton was childish, Roman discovered, and that was one reason he was so adorable. They talked about anything and everything: from flowers to the world to theatre to different languages. Roman was delighted to find that Patton spoke some Spanish, even if it was only a limited amount. The moon rose higher over the two boys, until Patton almost fell asleep where he was sitting, causing Roman to chuckle softly, shaking him awake.

 

“Come on, Sleeping Cutie,” he coaxed, playfully. “I think I’m going to go to bed. You should too, unless you want to fall asleep out here for real.”

 

“That would be the worst,” Patton agreed with a shiver, and accepted the hand roman held out to help him up. “I liked tonight, Ro. We should do this again some night, if you want! You’re so creative. I’m sure I could get some ideas from you too! D’you wanna hang out tomorrow?”

 

Hang out tomorrow? Roman’s sleepy brain froze for a long moment, indecisively. On one hand, he definitely wanted to hang out with Patton again — just listening to the other ramble was adorable, and frankly interesting, and he loved the praise Patton showered on him every minute. On the other, he would have homework, and was tired already: surely he couldn’t stay out this late every night with Patton? His head spun, gazing at the second year with a distant expression.

 

Hang out with Patton, or not? It was a simple choice, so why was he struggling to make it so much? ————————————————————— **If Roman chooses to hang out with Patton tomorrow, go to chapter 10. (NOT POSTED YET)**

** If Roman chooses not to hang out with Patton tomorrow, go to chapter 11. (NOT POSTED YET) **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please PLEASE correct me if I misgender Remy at any point! I don’t often use their pronouns, but when I do I panic in case I slip up. I always try to correct myself, but if there’s any I’ve missed, please let me know! I’m not doing it on purpose lol.
> 
> Also why are Pat and Roman so cute?? I love them uwu


	5. chapter v

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which roman (like the author) is antisocial, and goes to his room to study and sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to come out!! I struggled with this chapter, but more will be coming by tomorrow!! For now, enjoy Roman’s first proper full day at Atticus!!
> 
> trigger warnings; deceit (character), sympathetic deceit (or is it?), slight manipulation, mentions of loneliness.

Chapter 5 — Back to bed

  
  


His thinking was interrupted by a large yawn, and Roman rubbed his eyes sleepily, a rueful smile gracing his lips. He was rather tired — it would be better if he studied for a few hours to stay ahead of his class, and then have an early night. He could even run over his lines for the auditions he knew to be coming up soon: with the rehearsal space he had in his room, there was no stopping the amount of practise he could do. Decision made, he turned on his heel, and retraced his steps back to his room.

 

His room was just as welcoming and warm as it had been when he’d first arrived, and Roman slouched into his chair at his desk comfortably, stifling a yawn as he pulled out his phone. Opening Spotify, it didn’t take him long to locate his musical theatre playlist, and soon enough ‘Dead Girl Walking’ from Heathers was playing at top volume, while Roman sang along, pausing in his studying to belt when necessary. He took notes on his favourite Shakespeare play, Hamlet, taking neat and colourful notes on character, setting, metaphors and plot. Before he knew it, a few hours crept into the next day, and by the time Roman realised how late (or rather, early) it was, it was three in the morning.

 

“In the name of Menzel, Murphy and Meryl Streep,” he muttered under his breath, stunned. He’d really gotten carried away there! Setting down his notes and turning off his music reluctantly (waiting until the end of ‘All The Thinks You Can Think’ from Seussical had ended, of course), he hurried to change into pajamas, and get into bed. It was hard to sleep, with all his thoughts buzzing around his head, and he half wished he’d gone to explore last night instead, but he knew he had to get some rest — his first class was at half past seven! Eventually, he found his eyes beginning to shut over, and he let them, falling into a deep and dreamless sleep, until his alarm woke him at exactly seven o’clock.

 

Grumbling to himself, still half asleep and nowhere near as Prince-like as he usually was, Roman batted at his alarm to get it to quiet, but its job was done: he was awake. Slouching into the shower in his bathroom and turning it up hot, Roman’s mind began to readjust to his surroundings, and remember why he was up so early. Excitement made his heart leap into his throat — he was at Atticus, and he was about to attend his first class! A smile slid over his face, wide and delighted and entirely impossible to get rid of, as he finished his shower and got dressed.

 

Making his way downstairs to the breakfast hall, Roman was proud to say he’d only got lost very briefly, pointed in the right direction by a third year. Everyone he passed seemed to have made friends already, and this didn’t help him from feeling rather lonely indeed: though he pushed this away. He’d become good friends with someone in his class in no time, of that he was sure. He had plenty of time to make friends, and didn’t doubt that he would! Nevertheless, loneliness ate at his heart, and he was forced to take the last chair of a table, sitting in uncharacteristic silence and feeling rather awkward. He’d never been one to sit alone at a table before, and so this was rather disconcerting, but he was glad he’d managed to get some studying in last night too. That would surely help him in classes!!

 

Breakfast was delicious, and before too long, it was time for his first class, Dramatic Theory. This was what Roman was looking forward to; he loved the fact that theatre and plays could be performed in so many ways, each way different and unique, and this class would be exploring that. Making his way to class with a spring in his step and deliberately pushing his loneliness away, Roman slipped into class with five minutes to spare. The school was easier to navigate now he’d been here, though he imagined it would be even easier to find his way around if only he’d hung out last night… Nevertheless, he took his seat, and made amicable talk with the others around him.

 

Thomas soon hurried in, looking a little flustered, but still genuinely pleased to see them all.

 

“Ah, good morning, everyone!” He called brightly, dumping a pile of folders on his desk with a chuckle. “Sorry I’m a little late, I lost track of time. I promise that doesn’t happen all the time. I imagine there’ll be stragglers coming in late anyway: this is your first day, so latecoming will slide if you’ll let mine slide.” He grinned.

 

A light laugh bubbles around the class, and Roman could practically feel the nerves melt from the air. His own shoulders slumping, he pulled out his notebook, and saw Thomas glance over at the book that was thick with late night notes.

 

“I see some of you have already started taking notes,” their teacher continued, an approving nod to Roman making the teen flush with pride, “which is good! Just be careful not to work yourselves too hard now. This is only your first week, after all. Plenty of time for hard work later.”

 

Roman supposed Thomas had a point. But still, he enjoyed his studies (not as much as he loved actually performing, of course), he enjoyed theatre, so he would be studying… if he found time between rehearsing his lines, naturally.

 

“But for now,” Thomas smiles, coming to a halt from his pace at the front of the class, “we have work to do. How many of you have heard of the wonderful René Girard’s book Theatre of Envy?”

 

—————————————————————

 

Roman didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed a class more than he had his first class, two hours long though it had been. Thomas was, as expected, an excellent teacher, and made even the slightly more tedious parts of the lesson more exciting. A lot had been learned, that was for sure, and Roman’s notebooks were crammed with important knowledge and neatly highlighted facts. He had stage combat next, a class he was particularly anticipating due to the fact that a) it was  _ stage combat, _ and b) it would be in the theatre itself. He’d yet to see the theatre, but he’d heard it was beautiful, and he couldn’t wait to step inside and stand on the stage.

 

Practically brimming with excitement, Roman made his way down the corridors, keeping an eye out for signs that would lead him to the theatre. Finally coming to a stop outside an old mahogany door with the word THEATRE carved painstakingly in fancy script at the top, Roman waited impatiently to be let inside, and meanwhile studied the others in the class.

 

There were a limited number of students there, all of them nervous looking — save two, who Roman presumed to be second years by the ease they’d navigated their way here with. One was the student from the meeting yesterday, with the purple hair and sunglasses (Remy, Roman thought the student was called?). Remy was wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket with a dark grey shirt on underneath, as well as a badge that proudly declared “THEY/THEM”. They looked exceedingly exasperated with the boy beside them that they were talking to, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

 

The boy, on the other hand, was in black and yellow, and had a snake tattoo curling over his exposed collarbone that was visible only due to the two loose buttons on his shirt. There was a gleam in his eyes that Roman wasn’t one hundred percent fond of, that seemed to indicate this boy in yellow and black was not to be messed with. Edging closer, just a little, he overheard his and Remy’s conversation.

 

“—wasn’t what I was telling you,” the boy said, his tone dripping with condescending. “All I was  _ saying _ , is that you’re not as likely to get a main part with first years around. You’re hardly fresh meat, Remy. You don’t wanna deprive the first years of their time to shine now, do you?”

 

“Dee, you need to chill out. If they give me a main part, then they give me a main part. I’m not gonna  _ not _ audition in case I  _ do _ get a good part, you get me? I’m not taking anything away from the kids. What’s your deal, anyway?” Remy asked, their own voice not as friendly as it could have been. “You’re like, auditioning, right? How is that any different?”

 

The boy, Dee, floundered for a moment. “How do you know I’m auditioning?”

 

Remy rolled their eyes. “Cause you like, crept out of our common room in the middle of the night last night to sign up, and didn’t tell me where you were going? Girl, I’m not stupid.”

 

“Could’ve fooled me, with how you prattle on about getting main parts,” was all Dee replied with a smirk, leaving Remy to splutter indignantly. Dee’s eyes then went past his friend (was that even the right word? Remy and him seemed quite icy) to land on Roman, raising one eyebrow curiously. His gaze was piercing, almost, as if he could see right into Roman’s soul. They didn’t have time to speak, however, as the door to the theatre was opened by Thomas, and the students all filed in.

 

Roman’s sources had been correct — the theatre was breathtakingly beautiful. Eyes widening at the magnificent sight of the stage, warm and golden from the lighting, he stepped forward, barely aware he was doing so. He heard Thomas begin to speak, but could hardly care. This was it. It was suddenly apparent to Roman just how close he was to his dream. His dream of becoming a successful actor, to star onstage, to live the rest of his life as a performer. Swallowing back a lump of amazement in his throat, Roman tore his gaze from the stage and onto Thomas again, forcing himself to tune back in.

 

“...and so for this, you’ll be partnered up with second years, to see how much they’ve learned, and to keep you safe,” Thomas finished, with a smile. “Feel free to pick your partners, if you want. If you need any assistance, I’ll be in the audience. Just call out: I just want to see how you do without assistance first off.”

 

Without a moment of hesitation, Dee, the boy from before, turned to Roman, the same gleam still in his eyes as he declared confidently, “I’ll be your partner, if you’d like.”

 

His words should have been a question, but instead were posed like a statement. In any case, Roman shrugged, more than slightly curious as to why the older boy was so interested in him, and followed him onto the stage, relishing in the feeling of standing on it. Closing his eyes briefly, he could feel the beam of light hitting his face, and could almost hear the thunderous applause, see the smiles of his family, taste the thrill of performance—

 

“So you love the stage, hmm?” Dee’s smooth voice cut across his thoughts, and Roman opened his eyes. The pale boy had raised one eyebrow, but didn’t sound judging or mocking, just understanding. “Everyone does, though I admit, I’ve only seen Remy and little old me mirroring your delight. An actor through and through, are you?”

 

Roman flushed, but replied anyway, honestly.

 

“I don’t know where I’d be without theatre. What’s not to love about playing a part so convincingly you can make people smile with joy or gasp in delight?”

 

“Or bring them to tears,” Dee noted, though Roman couldn’t tell if there was sarcasm in his voice or not. Unsure, he nodded, and Dee simply smiled. “I understand. It’s a lot of power, to be able to control audiences’ emotions, isn’t it?”

 

It was, but Roman had never thought of performing as a move of power. Of enjoyment, yes, and of talent, but never of power. Though Dee wasn’t wrong — he did hold influence over how the people reacted, even if it made him slightly uneasy to picture it like that.

 

Dee seemed to sense Roman’s uncertainty, and chuckled lightly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too early to think like that. Anyway, I think we had a task to be getting on with. Stage combat? How familiar with it are you?”

 

“I know a little,” Roman replied eagerly, glad to have some safe footing, “but not as much as I’d hoped. My previous teacher wouldn’t teach us more in case we got hurt or something ridiculous.”

 

Dee smirked; an attractive look, Roman couldn’t help but think, but cleared his throat and pushed his daydreaming aside for now.

 

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got. Let’s start with a scene where you pin me against the wall by my throat, okay?”

 

—————————————————————

 

“Not bad,” Dee complimented offhandedly, after a rigorous forty minute fight class, breathing heavier with exhaustion. “For a beginner, you did alright, I suppose.”

 

“Alright?” Roman prodded, huffing. “I think I did more than alright, thank you very much!”

 

Dee grinned, bowing his head in defeat. “So I was lying. That was impressive, Roman. Keep this up and I’m sure you’ll be the star of the show.”

 

Roman beamed at the praise, something that he craved so dearly yet was so rare back at home. “I hope so,” he admitted. “I just want to live my dream here. This  _ is _ my dream, coming here. It’ll be grand to make some friends and act to my heart’s content.”

 

“Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you’d like to be mine?” Dee offered, seemingly uninterested, but there was an edge of something in his voice and on his face that made Roman know the older was paying careful attention. “I don’t suppose you’ve had much of an opportunity to go out and make friends, and it can’t hurt to be my friend. I can show you the ropes. I remember my first year here — it would have been dreadful without my close good friends—“

 

_ My close good friends _ ! Roman mentally finished the Vine in his head, before tuning back in.

 

“—that bad. So?” Dee finished, expectantly. “Are we friends?”

 

Were they? Roman’s eyes swept over the students scattered across the stage, eyes catching on a boy in a purple hoodie fighting Remy, and a boy with a cat cardigan around his shoulders fighting another in a shirt and tie. They, along with the other students, all seemed to have made friends, even if only tentatively. Only Roman was left without. Dee seemed funny and like he genuinely found him talented, and his compliments were ego boosts Roman needed.

 

On the other hand, there was a glitter in Dee’s eyes that made Roman nervous, and he knew himself well. Too much praise led to his own arrogance growing, and he couldn’t afford that. Not to mention Dee had been rather nasty to Remy outside, despite the other student seeming nice.

 

Should he befriend Dee? Or refuse to be his friend?

 

—————————————————————

 

** If Roman chooses to befriend Dee, go to chapter 12 (NOT POSTED YET). **

****

** If Roman chooses to become rivals with Dee, go to chapter 13 (NOT POSTED YET). **

 


	6. chapter vi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which roman and virgil talk disney, and deceit talks power.
> 
> trigger warnings; deceit (character), sympathetic deceit (or is it?), manipulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deceits role in the story can go good or bad depending on which choices you pick!! Just a warning for that lol.
> 
> And remember!! Just because this chapter, the last one and the next few share similar structures I’d classes, that doesn’t mean there aren’t Easter eggs peppered throughout exposing more of the story!
> 
> As always, feedback is always appreciated!!

Chapter 6 — Hang Out [Virgil]

 

“Of course I’ll hang out with you, Virge!” Roman smiled softly, tone light, and he felt his smile grow larger at the sight of Virgil’s relief. “I’d love to. We have so much more to talk about. Do you watch Disney movies?”

 

“Do I watch what?” Virgil asked, apparently thrown by this change of topic, though Roman for a moment wondered if this meant he’d never seen a Disney movie, and reacted as such, eyes widening and giving a fake gasp.

 

“You  _ don’t _ watch Disney movies?” He demanded.

 

“Of course I watch Disney movies! Who doesn’t watch Disney movies?!”

 

“ _ You _ , or so I thought!

 

“I love Disney!” Virgil stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking far more relaxed and at ease than he had done when he’d first entered the theatre. “My favourite movie is probably… Huh… Aladdin? Fox and the Hound? One of those, probably.”

 

“They’re good,” Roman admitted, stifling a yawn. “Just not the best.”

 

“Alright then, Prince Charming,” Virgil quipped, drawing a grin from Roman, “what’s your favourite? Cinderella?”

 

“That,” Roman drew the word out, relishing in the dramatics, “shall be saved til tomorrow, friend!”

 

Virgil huffed good naturedly, but they walked out of the theatre together, and Roman, in the process, hid another wide yawn. Virgil caught this one, and chuckled softly.

 

“Go to bed, Princey.”

 

“Alright, mom. I’ll meet you for breakfast?”

 

Virgil smiled, and the sight was so genuine and vulnerable and hopeful that Roman felt his heart melt. “Is eight good for you?”

 

“Practically perfect,” Roman agreed. “G’night, Virge!”

 

“Night, Roman.”

 

Roman all but skipped back to his room, smiling widely at the thought of his new friend. Virgil was his friend! His first day, and he’d already made a friend. It was too good to be true, surely, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Getting changed into pyjamas and slumping down happily on to his bed, it didn’t take him long to fall asleep, his dreams purple tinted and of theatre and of a stormy Night until his alarm clock woke him at seven o’clock the next morning.

 

Grumbling to himself, still half asleep and nowhere near as Prince-like as he usually was, Roman batted at his alarm to get it to quiet, but its job was done: he was awake. Slouching into the shower in his bathroom and turning it up hot, Roman’s mind began to readjust to his surroundings, and remember why he was up so early. Excitement made his heart leap into his throat — he was at Atticus, and he was about to attend his first class! And Virgil would be there! A smile slid over his face, wide and delighted and entirely impossible to get rid of, as he finished his shower and got dressed.

 

Making his way downstairs to the breakfast hall, Roman was proud to say he’d only got lost very briefly, pointed in the right direction by a third year. Virgil was waiting for him at the entrance, and Roman couldn’t help but notice the way Virgil’s face lit up at the sight of him. They exchanged greetings, and sat down, talking avidly about Disney to theatre and all things in between.

 

Breakfast was delicious, and before too long, it was time for his first class, Dramatic Theory. This was what Roman was looking forward to; he loved the fact that theatre and plays could be performed in so many ways, each way different and unique, and this class would be exploring that. Making his way to class with a spring in his step and Virgil by his side, Roman slipped into class with five minutes to spare. The school was easier to navigate now he’d been here, though he imagined it would be even easier to find his way around if only he’d hung out last night… Nevertheless, he took his seat, sitting next to Virgil, and made conversation happily.

 

Thomas soon hurried in, looking a little flustered, but still genuinely pleased to see them all.

 

“Ah, good morning, everyone!” He called brightly, dumping a pile of folders on his desk with a chuckle. “Sorry I’m a little late, I lost track of time. I promise that doesn’t happen all the time. I imagine there’ll be stragglers coming in late anyway: this is your first day, so late coming will slide if you’ll let mine slide.” He grinned.

 

A light laugh bubbles around the class, and Roman could practically feel the nerves melt from the air. His own shoulders slumping, he caught eyes with Virgil and smiled encouragingly at his nerves.

 

“I see some of you have already started taking notes,” their teacher continued, an approving nod to the boy sitting in front of Virgil, who had a space notebook with neat tidy notes scrawled across it, “which is good! Just be careful not to work yourselves too hard now. This is only your first week, after all. Plenty of time for hard work later.”

 

Roman supposed Thomas had a point. But still, he enjoyed his studies (not as much as he loved actually performing, of course), he enjoyed theatre, so he would be studying… if he found time between rehearsing his lines, naturally, and hanging with Virgil.

 

“But for now,” Thomas smiles, coming to a halt from his pace at the front of the class, “we have work to do. How many of you have heard of the wonderful René Girard’s book Theatre of Envy?”

 

—————————————————————

 

Roman didn’t think he’d ever enjoyed a class more than he had his first class, two hours long though it had been. Thomas was, as expected, an excellent teacher, and made even the slightly more tedious parts of the lesson more exciting. A lot had been learned, that was for sure, and Roman’s notebooks were crammed with important knowledge and neatly highlighted facts. He had stage combat next with Virgil, a class he was particularly anticipating due to the fact that a) it was  _ stage combat, _ and b) it would be in the theatre itself. Virgil seemed less excited about being forced to do acting (“in case any of our resident actors get sick a few days before a show, so we can have one of you stand in!” Thomas had explained amicably earlier), but Roman’s own delight was contagious.

 

Practically brimming with excitement, Roman made his way down the corridors, practically bouncing beside an amused Virgil. Finally coming to a stop outside the old mahogany door with the word THEATRE carved painstakingly in fancy script at the top, Roman waited impatiently to be let inside, and meanwhile studied the others in the class with Virgil.

 

There were a limited number of students there, all of them nervous looking — save two, who Roman presumed to be second years by the ease they’d navigated their way here with. One was the student from the meeting yesterday, with the purple hair and sunglasses (Remy, Roman thought the student was called?). Remy was wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket with a dark grey shirt on underneath, as well as a badge that proudly declared “THEY/THEM”. They looked exceedingly exasperated with the boy beside them that they were talking to, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

 

The boy, on the other hand, was in black and yellow, and had a snake tattoo curling over his exposed collarbone that was visible only due to the two loose buttons on his shirt. There was a gleam in his eyes that Roman wasn’t one hundred percent fond of, that seemed to indicate this boy in yellow and black was not to be messed with. Beside him, Virgil tensed, and gritted his teeth at the sight of him, but stayed silent. Edging closer, just a little, Roman overheard his and Remy’s conversation.

 

“—wasn’t what I was telling you,” the boy said, his tone dripping with condescending. “All I was  _ saying _ , is that you’re not as likely to get a main part with first years around. You’re hardly fresh meat, Remy. You don’t wanna deprive the first years of their time to shine now, do you?”

 

“Dee, you need to chill out. If they give me a main part, then they give me a main part. I’m not gonna  _ not _ audition in case I  _ do _ get a good part, you get me? I’m not taking anything away from the kids. What’s your deal, anyway?” Remy asked, their own voice not as friendly as it could have been. “You’re like, auditioning, right? How is that any different?”

 

The boy, Dee, floundered for a moment. “How do you know I’m auditioning?”

 

Remy rolled their eyes. “Cause you like, crept out of our common room in the middle of the night last night to sign up, and didn’t tell me where you were going? Girl, I’m not stupid.”

 

“Could’ve fooled me, with how you prattle on about getting main parts,” was all Dee replied with a smirk, leaving Remy to splutter indignantly. Dee’s eyes then went past his friend (was that even the right word? Remy and him seemed quite icy) to land on Roman, raising one eyebrow curiously. His gaze was piercing, almost, as if he could see right into Roman’s soul. They didn’t have time to speak, however, as the door to the theatre was opened by Thomas, and the students all filed in.

 

Roman’s tired brain had been correct — the theatre was still as breathtakingly beautiful as it had been last night. Eyes widening at the magnificent sight of the stage, warm and golden from the lighting, he stepped forward, barely aware he was doing so. He heard Thomas begin to speak, but could hardly care. This was it. It was suddenly apparent to Roman just how close he was to his dream. His dream of becoming a successful actor, to star onstage, to live the rest of his life as a performer. Swallowing back a lump of amazement in his throat, Roman tore his gaze from the stage and onto Thomas again, forcing himself to tune back in.

 

“...and so for this, you’ll be partnered up with second years, to see how much they’ve learned, and to keep you safe,” Thomas finished, with a smile. “Feel free to pick your partners, if you want. If you need any assistance, I’ll be in the audience. Just call out: I just want to see how you do without assistance first off.”

 

Roman frowned at the fact he wouldn’t get to work with Virgil, but saw Remy shoot Virgil a smile and shrug. They partnered up quickly, with Virgil shooting Roman an anxious gaze as if to apologise for leaving him partnerless. Without a moment of hesitation, Dee, the boy from before, turned to Roman, the same gleam still in his eyes as he declared confidently, “I’ll be your partner, if you’d like.”

 

His words should have been a question, but instead were posed like a statement. In any case, Roman shrugged, more than slightly curious as to why the older boy was so interested in him, and followed him onto the stage, relishing in the feeling of standing on it. Closing his eyes briefly, he could feel the beam of light hitting his face, and could almost hear the thunderous applause, see the smiles of his family, taste the thrill of performance—

 

“So you love the stage, hmm?” Dee’s smooth voice cut across his thoughts, and Roman opened his eyes. The pale boy had raised one eyebrow, but didn’t sound judging or mocking, just understanding. “Everyone does, though I admit, I’ve only seen Remy and little old me mirroring your delight. An actor through and through, are you?”

 

Roman flushed, but replied anyway, honestly.

 

“I don’t know where I’d be without theatre. What’s not to love about playing a part so convincingly you can make people smile with joy or gasp in delight?”

 

“Or bring them to tears,” Dee noted, though Roman couldn’t tell if there was sarcasm in his voice or not. Unsure, he nodded, and Dee simply smiled. “I understand. It’s a lot of power, to be able to control audiences’ emotions, isn’t it?”

 

It was, but Roman had never thought of performing as a move of power. Of enjoyment, yes, and of talent, but never of power. Though Dee wasn’t wrong — he did hold influence over how the people reacted, even if it made him slightly uneasy to picture it like that.

 

Dee seemed to sense Roman’s uncertainty, and chuckled lightly. “It doesn’t matter. It’s too early to think like that. Anyway, I think we had a task to be getting on with. Stage combat? How familiar with it are you?”

 

“I know a little,” Roman replied eagerly, glad to have some safe footing, “but not as much as I’d hoped. My previous teacher wouldn’t teach us more in case we got hurt or something ridiculous.”

 

Dee smirked; an attractive look, Roman couldn’t help but think, but cleared his throat and pushed his daydreaming aside for now.

 

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got. Let’s start with a scene where you pin me against the wall by my throat, okay?”

 

—————————————————————

 

“Not bad,” Dee complimented offhandedly, after a rigorous forty minute fight class, breathing heavier with exhaustion. “For a beginner, you did alright, I suppose.”

 

“Alright?” Roman prodded, huffing. “I think I did more than alright, thank you very much!”

 

Dee grinned, bowing his head in defeat. “So I was lying. That was impressive, Roman. Keep this up and I’m sure you’ll be the star of the show.”

 

Roman beamed at the praise, something that he craved so dearly yet was so rare back at home. “I hope so,” he admitted. “I just want to live my dream here. This  _ is _ my dream, coming here. It’ll be grand to make some friends and act to my heart’s content.”

 

“Speaking of which, I don’t suppose you’d like to be mine?” Dee offered, seemingly uninterested, but there was an edge of something in his voice and on his face that made Roman know the older was paying careful attention. “I don’t suppose you’ve had much of an opportunity to go out and make friends, and it can’t hurt to be my friend. I can show you the ropes. I remember my first year here — it would have been dreadful without my close good friends—“

 

_ My close good friends _ ! Roman mentally finished the Vine in his head, before tuning back in.

 

“—that bad. So?” Dee finished, expectantly. “Are we friends?”

 

Were they? Roman’s eyes swept over the students scattered across the stage, eyes catching on Virgil fighting Remy, and a boy with a cat cardigan around his shoulders fighting another in a shirt and tie. There wasn’t a certain number of friends Roman was limited too, and having an actor friend should be fun! Dee seemed funny and like he genuinely found him talented, and his compliments were ego boosts Roman needed.

 

On the other hand, there was a glitter in Dee’s eyes that made Roman nervous, and he knew himself well. Too much praise led to his own arrogance growing, and he couldn’t afford that. Not to mention Dee had been rather nasty to Remy outside, despite the other student seeming nice.

 

Should he befriend Dee? Or refuse to be his friend?

 

—————————————————————

 

** If Roman chooses to befriend Dee, go to chapter 14 (NOT YET POSTED). **

****

** If Roman chooses to become rivals with Dee, go to chapter 15 (NOT YET POSTED). **

  
  



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